Temper
by Thistle of Liberty
Summary: Jack loses his temper with a visiting officer. General Hammond does not approve. WARNING! Contains mild spanking plus references to spanking.


**A/N: Written for the little spanko's prompt challenge. You should check her site out! It's at _thelittlespanko dot weebly dot com._ My prompt was "temper".**

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><p>George Hammond considered himself a patient man. To be able to deal with the bureaucracy that came with running such a large and intricate organization as the SGC, that was necessary. Because God knew that dealing with politicians whose sole experience with military was bad movies or commissioned officers that had never been out in the field required the patience of a saint.<p>

But Brigadier General Terry Nichols, Hammond suspected, would have tried even the patience of the Lord Himself.

"All I'm saying is," the man was declaring pompously, "that I understand that it's nice to have a pretty thing to rest your eyes on, but you can't risk having some green girl in a field unit."

Hammond wouldn't have needed to know O'Neill half as well as he did to notice the flash of anger in his eyes and realizing that his officer was about to do something both of them would regret Hammond spoke up.

"General Nichols," he said, "You concern is understandable, but Captain Carter is quite qualified for her current position."

Seeing O'Neill about to open his mouth, no doubt to add some slur to Hammond's rebuff, Hammond shot the younger man a warning look. The Colonel closed his mouth.

"Very well…" Nichols agreed reluctantly, frowning deeply, "But as for this other kid, Jackson; do you really think it's safe to have _him_ in the field? I mean… sure, he might be great at digging around in the ground, but it's not as if that's much good in the field. He's got no experience to speak of, and to tell you the truth he does seem a bit… loony."

Before Hammond had time to stop him, O'Neill shot out of his seat and banged his fist on the table, causing Nichols to flinch slightly. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you!" the Colonel demanded furiously, voice very close to yelling, "You think you can just come in here with your… your pretentious, stuck up goddamn opinions and insult people who are better than you could ever dream of being, you… _you_!"

It took Nichols a moment to recover from the shock of this sudden verbal onslaught, but when he did his face took on the color of a beet and he pulled himself up. He remained sitting, though; probably wanting to retain the small protection the chair gave him against O'Neill's formidable anger.

"May I remind you, Colonel O'Neill," he said, "that I am a higher-ranking officer than you! This is what you get for letting civilians and aliens and… I don't know what else onto the base, General Hammond!"

Hammond was about to give the man a short retort, dismissing him with his tail between his legs, but O'Neill forestalled him. "No, General," he nearly shouted, "this is what you get for letting jerks with egos ten times as big as their brains onto the base!"

And that, Hammond decided, was one step too far out of line, even for his most unruly officer. "Colonel," he said sharply, before Nichols had time to say anything to make the situation worse, "Dismissed. _Right now_."

O'Neill drew a ragged breath, his fury still obvious in his entire bearing, and, to Hammond's annoyance, he didn't back down. Nichols, perhaps mistakenly believing that he had Hammond's support, rose and drew himself up to his full height.

"Insubordination, Colonel!" he barked, "I can have you court-martialed for this!"

The insufferable man had tried Hammond's patience seriously today, and this ridiculous threat to his finest officer was the final drop. "_Brigadier_ General Nichols," he snapped, emphasizing the fact that he outranked the other man, "Please refrain from threatening my officers."

Then he turned back to O'Neill, trying not to let any of the sympathy he felt for the man's anger seep through into his countenance or voice. "Colonel, you're dismissed," he said once again, his voice a low threat of severe consequences if he wasn't obeyed, "Wait in my office."

For a moment it looked as if O'Neill would keep defying orders, but then his long time in the military seemed to take over and he turned on his heel sharply, ignoring the courtesy of saluting his superiors before leaving, and slammed the door behind with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall.

As soon as he was out of the room Nichols turned to Hammond, his face the very picture of indignation. "Is that how you let your subordinates act?" he demanded, "Is that how…"

"General Nichols," Hammond interrupted him, swallowing his pride and trying his hardest to sound conciliatory, "You have to realize that the competence and skill of one's team is a very sensitive subject for anyone working in the field."

Even though he knew how much trouble a displeased Nichols could mean for the Stargate program, he couldn't resist making the small jab at the man's pure bureaucracy background. It seemed Nichols took it as the insult it was intended as, but his pride obviously kept him from responding to it.

"Of course," he said instead, "I understand. I'm just concerned about the suitability of this country's first line of defense against whatever forces may be out there."

Hammond nodded, taking care to keep his expression friendly. "I can assure that all personnel are thoroughly screened and assessed before entering the SGC," he said, "These people truly are the best."

Nichols' look of indignation remained, but he relaxed his posture and straightened his uniform jacket. "Yes, well…" he began, but then broke off, obviously not knowing what to say, "As long as you're sure."

"I am," Hammond assured him with a strained smile, his willingness to play nice dissipating quickly. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

It was a clear dismissal and Nichols apparently had intelligence enough to catch it. "Of course," he said, saluting Hammond smartly and waited for his gesture to be returned before leaving the room. Hammond couldn't help but wish that the man he was now about to read the riot act had as much regard for military protocol.

With a deep sigh, he too left the room and headed for his office. He really hoped O'Neill was there waiting for him, because if the younger man had blatantly disobeyed such a clear order… Well, there would have to be consequences that Hammond had no wish to enforce.

Luckily, O'Neill was waiting for him, albeit while impatiently pacing and his fist balled up so tightly it had to be painful. When Hammond opened the door he spun around, eyes still flashing with barely suppressed fury, and opened his mouth to, no doubt, continue his tirade from earlier. Hammond raised a hand to halt him.

"Colonel," he said sternly, "My patience with you is already running thin, so I suggest you watch your mouth."

O'Neill drew a deep breath, raggedly, and clenched his jaw; looking as if containing his fury took every ounce of self-discipline he had. After a few more deep breaths, the younger man spoke, his voice no longer on the verge of yelling but instead a low growl.

"_Sir_," he said, venomously, and even though Hammond was fairly certain the disdain wasn't directed at him he had to fight the urge to flinch, "You seriously just gonna let that… that jerk say those things?"

The demand got louder toward the end and the Colonel swung his arm out violently, gesturing to the door.

"Colonel!" Hammond repeated, louder than before. He put up with a lot of unorthodox behavior from his best officer, but the kind of insubordination the younger man had just shown couldn't be tolerated, and Hammond would prefer it if his lecture would get through to O'Neill instead of just getting caught up in a haze of anger.

Unfortunately, O'Neill didn't listen. "General! He _insulted my team_!"

By now O'Neill really was shouting and Hammond felt a flash of annoyance. Because as much as he agreed with O'Neill on his opinions of Nichols, the kind of disrespect it showed to stand yelling at a superior officer wasn't something Hammond could condone.

"Jack!" he interrupted his officer sharply and at the use of his first name O'Neill stilled, fists still clenched and breathing forced, but he looked at Hammond with a bit less anger in his eyes. The General gave O'Neill a final long hard look before determinedly walking over to his desk and sitting down, pulling out some reports that needed to be read.

O'Neill stood still for a moment, just weighing on his heels, before he somewhat warily approached Hammond's desk. Standing in front of it, almost at attention, he cleared his throat hesitantly.

"Yes, Colonel?" Hammond asked.

"Sir…" the Colonel began, now considerably calmed than before, "Do you really mean to let that… that man get away with what he said?"

He sounded incredulous. A bit too incredulous, Hammond thought; as if he was questioning Hammond's sanity or intelligence.

"Colonel," he said simply, his voice hard, "I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You have enough to answer for without adding blatant disrespect for your CO to the list."

The younger man's eyes widened and for a moment O'Neill looked considerably more like a teenager caught smoking than a battle-hardened officer. Pleased, Hammond went back to his report with the intention of making O'Neill sweat for a while.

O'Neill remained still for a while, rigidly standing half at attention, but when several minutes passed without Hammond paying him the slightest attention, he began to fidget impatiently. Making the Colonel nervous _had_ been Hammond's intention, but this wait was also part of O'Neill's punishment, possibly more effective than the scalding lecture Hammond intended to deliver, so he sternly issued a warning.

"Colonel. Stand still."

Again, O'Neill's face took on the expression of a guilty teenager and he immediately ceased the impatient shuffling of his feet. Hammond silently congratulated himself on having managed to curb some of O'Neill's rather infamous inclination for insubordination.

For a few minutes he kept his attention on the report he was reading, pleased to note that O'Neill remained still. Then he put it aside and raised his head to look at his troublesome officer.

"Well, Colonel," he began, "What have you got to say for yourself?"

"That _that man_ was… an idiot!" O'Neill replied, his voice rising in anger again, "He… he practically… I don't know… Did you even hear what he said?"

Hammond had to admit that his sympathy for O'Neill increased some when he realized that the man was too flustered to even express his disdain properly, but that didn't mean that O'Neill would get out of a long lecture.

"I heard. But that doesn't change the fact that he is a general and you are a colonel. And that makes yelling insults at him insubordination rather than just plain rudeness. So I'll ask again: what have you got to say for yourself?"

O'Neill grimaced at that, clearly uncomfortable, and directed his gaze to the floor. "General…" he complained, in a voice that was very close to being a whine, "Look, I'm sorry, but he… well, you heard him!"

"I did," Hammond replied calmly, using his own anger at Nichols to keep his anger at O'Neill in check, "But did I shout at him?"

Looking as if it pained him to do so, O'Neill inclined his head in a silent concession. Hammond debated demanding a proper answer, but decided against it.

"Tell me, Colonel, what you would do if Dr. Jackson showed the kind of disrespect to a visiting officer you just did?"

With another grimace, O'Neill shifted on his feet and glanced at the door, obviously wishing there was some way he could escape this conversation. "You know what," he replied quietly. Too quietly for the normally cheerful colonel, as if he'd rather not admit it. And Hammond supposed that he probably didn't.

"I do," he agreed, "But I want you to tell me."

O'Neill sighed deeply. "I'd have tanned his little butt."

By now it would have been obvious to anyone that O'Neill wanted nothing more than to get away from his CO's uncomfortable inquiries. Probably, Hammond thought, because the younger man had a pretty good idea of where Hammond was going with this. And Hammond had to admit that had he been in his Colonels' shoes, he too would have been very reluctant to go there.

"Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't do the same to you?"

Whatever doubts O'Neill might have had that this wasn't the route the conversation was going to take, Hammond knew that they would now be completely crushed and the Colonel's eyes widened for a moment before he lowered his gaze and grimaced exaggeratedly.

"Uh… because… I'm old?" he offered weakly, studying his shoes with great interest, "Sir."

"Colonel?" Hammond said conversationally, almost mildly.

"Sir?"

The man's voice was filled with apprehension, and Hammond once more congratulated himself on being able to get this reaction from a man who habitually laughed in the faces of people in position to kill him. Hammond supposed it was because whereas O'Neill was no doubt familiar with danger to his life and wellbeing, he was probably less used to being reprimanded. At least by someone whose opinion he actually respected, and Hammond liked to think that that was the case with himself.

"Look at me, son," he ordered and, somewhat reluctantly, O'Neill obeyed. "That isn't a good reason."

"It's not?"

O'Neill sounded genuinely surprised, and if Hammond hadn't known the younger man so well he might have fallen for it. As it was, he was just annoyed that some of O'Neill's flippant attitude had returned.

"No, it's not, and you know it."

Drawing himself up a bit straighter, maybe realizing that playing the good and repentant soldier was a better course of action than flippancy, O'Neill answered. "Yes, sir."

"And is there any other reason..?"

"Uh…" O'Neill began, brow furrowing, "Because..? Because… I don't respond well to…"

Hammond's raised eyebrows and stern glare effectively broke him off, and he lowered his gaze with a deep sigh. "Never mind," he conceded, "No reason, sir."

"I'm glad we agree on that."

With the, perhaps a bit mean, intention of raising the Colonel's level of apprehension even more, Hammond went back to his reports with nothing more than that. For a while, O'Neill kept silent and fairly still, but soon enough the nervousness that Hammond's non-ending of the conversation had caused seemed to overtake him and he cleared his throat.

"Uh… sir?"

The hesitant inquiry was far from O'Neill's usual levity and Hammond was tempted to end his suffering, but the need to make sure that this was one lesson his officer truly did learn was stronger.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Uh…" O'Neill began, apparently at a loss for what to say, "Are you… I mean… That is… Eh… May I be dismissed?"

The last was filled with hopefulness bordering on wistfulness, probably because O'Neill knew very well that there was no way this conversation was over and was just asking because he found no other way to make his query of what was about to happen.

"No, Colonel, you may not."

"I figured…" O'Neill muttered with yet another deep sigh.

Deciding that he had dragged the younger man's torment out long enough for it to be a memorable lesson, Hammond looked up from his report and trained a stern glare on the Colonel.

"Colonel," he began briskly, "Your behavior was unacceptable. There are no 'buts' about it."

He paused, waiting for O'Neill's agreement, which he gave with a resigned dip of the head. "No, sir."

"By all rights, I should give you a sound paddling."

O'Neill gulped, but most his defiant attitude seemed curbed for the moment and Hammond was a bit grateful that it was O'Neill and not Jackson he was dealing with, because the man's military status made it considerably easier to get his compliance.

"Yes, sir. But…"

Apparently, O'Neill wasn't completely cowed, and Hammond interrupted his halfhearted protest with a stern glare.

"_However_," he said, "I will let you off with a warning this time. If it happens again, I _will_ break out my old paddle. I'm sure it will prove just as effective on you as it did on my kids."

O'Neill actually blushed at that and hung his head. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, sounding much more like a thoroughly scolded teenager than a colonel in the US Air Force, to Hammond's relief. He would hate to actually have to go through on his threat, and hopefully this dressing-down was enough to deter O'Neill from a repeat performance.

Hammond rose and rounded his desk, not without noticing how O'Neill tensed slightly as he approached him. Placing a light hand on the Colonel's arm, he began guiding him toward the door of the office.

"I trust we won't have to have this conversation again, Colonel," he cautioned as sternly as he could. O'Neill nodded, relieved.

"We won't, General; trust me."

Pleased at getting the Colonel's very meek agreement, Hammond nodded before delivering the final part of the lesson. Namely, three hard swats to O'Neill's behind.

The younger man's eyes widened, apparently not prepared for Hammond to back up his threats with actions just yet, and turned to Hammond. For a while he seemed too stunned to speak, but then he grimaced and reached back to rub at his behind.

"Ouch," he said, probably more for show than any real pain, and after a moment, not getting the reaction he wanted from Hammond, "That hurt."

"That's the point, son," Hammond replied dryly and was given a wry smile in return.

"Guess I kind of deserved it, huh?"

Hammond inclined his head, happy that O'Neill seemed to accept that he was in the wrong. From most people Hammond would have expected repentant behavior, probably thought that his lecture hadn't been effective if that wasn't the case, but with the Colonel it was different. Because what was he supposed to expect from a man who named a vicious symbiote who was indirectly a threat to one of his best friend's life "Junior"?

"You certainly did," Hammond said.

"It won't happen again, sir," O'Neill said after a pause, and at Hammond's nod he saluted smartly before leaving, probably a bit wary of prolonging the meeting.

For a while Hammond kept his eyes on the retreating figure of his officer. Then he shook his head and went back to his desk, with a small sigh realizing that it most probably would happen again.


End file.
